***Featured Artists*** Che’la McClain
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And today born;
bare
untroubled few seconds,
unconventional,
unembarrassed
angst is best friend
after.
Society –
only hidden
body beautiful.
Only man;
pleasure his
stop being
uncovered body
acceptable
dignifying
redemption
(how?)
For the sake of
self.
This . is. NOT.
How you revolution.
Instead
become whore;
attention
whole
sanctuary unpure.
I plucked nudes
out of my favorites’ folder
in my iPhone.
Samurai their only audience –
months of “ should I post them?”
Months of
“but I want to.”
Is it bad
vulnerability
is probably what appealed to me most?
I am always courageous
BECAUSE of fear
and doubt;
they are my adrenaline shots.
No spiteful man tried me on for size
but, still I worry
cause today I was born
my way for the first time;
I be forsaker.
I bore chains so long;
they still shake
when I move
and I don’t want
religion
and misogyny
catching rides on them
while
anxiety denies freedom;
cause she doesn’t know what comes
with it.
A Tale of Two Brains
My cousin puts his hands up my dress on a Sunday. My dress is black at the top and the bottom has plaid in pink, black, and white. Dresses always made for easy access. We are on the couch right in front of the window in the front room at my aunt’s. They’re still at the church and I can still picture the bright day but I can’t tell you how long it was before they came home. I think they were at a second service. He wanted me to bring him food from church. My uncle’s church was in walking distance of his mother’s house. People were surprised if he actually came. I can’t tell you the exact date. My brain is good at forgetting certain details.
He says about my breasts “they’re perfect.” I was sixteen and that was the first time my thirty year old cousin touched me. I tried to push his head away from me I told him that this was wrong and we were family. He used one hand to hold my wrists and began gently licking a nipple. Afterwards he asked me if I liked it. I said “yes.” My body has always reacted to it being touched even if I asked it not to. I still remember that feeling in my stomach and it felt hot and my head felt like it was in a daze. That was eight years ago but my brain still tries to tell me to reassure you that he’s not fucked up. That six years of him asking me to take my clothes off was manipulation when everyone else calls it abuse. “He took advantage of you” my best friend says. I fight with the idea remembering that he told me he liked me better than the rest of the family because I kept to myself. He called me his favorite cousin. I began blaming my body for his advances. She says he should’ve known better. I remember asking him why he wasn’t interested in other women. I don’t remember his answer. My brain side steps the idea that David could like teenage girls.
It knows that both are wrong but tries comforting me like one is worse than the other. My brain tells me that he never physically hurt me. It reminds me that he asked and guides my memories away from him repeating himself. His voice was always nice. He was never loud. It likes ignoring his paranoia and accusations.
“Are you sure you haven’t done that before?’ He tells me how good I was at sucking his dick. He told me if I didn’t like it I wouldn’t have to do it again. I wanted to believe that that made him a good person. Looking back on it I’m wondering if that made me naïve. I ask him and my brain what they call what’s going on. Neither have an answer. It is never something simple for my brain. It loves complicating things. It makes me his accomplice
“Did you tell anyone?” he asks. “Yes you did!” That is what I hold onto when my brain tells me that David is a good person.
My mother taught me that I should’ve fought him and not to go willingly. I learned this before I got on the Greyhound bus as a pre-teen. I was supposed to be ready to kick, punch, and scream if anyone were to try anything with me. I wasn’t supposed to withdraw inside myself. I was supposed to know better.
Che’la McClain received her Bachelor of Arts degree in Poetry/Creative Writing with an Education Minor from Columbia College Chicago in 2017. Learn more at chelamcclain.com